


Light Up The Way Home

by psyraah



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8203013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyraah/pseuds/psyraah
Summary: They will always bring Shiro home.





	

**Author's Note:**

> VERY RAPID RESPONSE TO SEASON 2 TRAILER BECAUSE I WAS FREAKING OUT AND NEEDED TO WRITE FIX IT FIC EVEN THOUGH THERE'S NOTHING TO FIX.

They’ve taken his arm. 

It hurts. 

But then, he’s not sure there’s any part of him that doesn’t. 

They took his arm, when they realised he wouldn’t fight for them anymore, when they’d dragged him out to the arena before realising that maybe having one of their greatest weapons attached to one of their greatest enemies wouldn’t be a fantastic idea. Shiro had almost killed two guards before they’d managed to subdue him with _pain pain pain_ , and fire and ice racing up his veins.

They’re trying to tame him, trying to mould him back into what he was— _theirs—_ back in this dark cell. 

And the thing is? It’s working. He’s tired. He’s worn. He’s lost himself.

“Where are they?”

‘They’ being a vision of the lions, mangled and broken beyond repair, Paladins falling one by one. ‘They’ are the castle, Allura and Coran shouting, screaming, burning. ‘They’ are the blood and fire that Haggar plants in his mind ( _he knows this, he does_ ), telling him to _give in_. 

“They’d be better off in our hands. Who knows where they are? They could be dying, the galaxies are perilous. At the very least, we would take them alive.”

Don’t listen. Don’t listen. Shiro knows them better than Haggar.

‘They’ are Hunk’s exasperated resilience, Lance’s creative intelligence, the way Katie’s _cackled_ that one time Shiro used the heat of his arm to cook food. ‘They’ are the gentle way Coran sneaks food to the mice, Allura’s wooping laugh when they fly too fast. ‘They’ are Keith’s strength.

(If he thinks any more of Keith, he’ll break.)

He’s their leader, their friend. And if protecting them means giving his life or his death, then he’ll gladly do it. 

It’s why he’s here, after all. 

“Where are they?”

 _I don’t know_. 

He doesn’t tell them that, though. He doesn’t tell them that the last he saw was of Keith, desperate and begging for him not to leave as he gave himself up. 

He starts off spitting, or laughing, or snarling at them. But after too much time has passed—too much pain, too much sorrow, too much of _missing_ them—Shiro falls quiet, because it’s the only way for them all to stay safe. He’s not sure that if he opens his mouth, it won’t all come spilling out. 

“Where is he?”

 _I don’t know_. 

“Where are you keeping him?” 

 _I don’t know_. 

The door opens. Purple light rushes in, and, god, Shiro _can’t help_  but curl away from the light. He keeps his head down, because if he looks up…if he look up, there are just more dreams and nightmares and twisted reality. 

“Shiro.” The voice is familiar, breathy, almost a sob, and Shiro stiffens. 

“No.” 

“Guys, we’ve found him. Shiro, c’mon.” 

There’s warmth by his side, but Shiro keeps his head down, clenches his eyes shut, makes a futile effort to slow his breathing. “No.” They can’t have taken Keith, they can’t have— _no_. 

Gentle hands are fiddling with the cuff around his wrist, and he gasps when harsh pressure of the shackle—far too familiar now—disappears to let his arm fall to the floor, agony lancing through when it does. “No.” They’re going to take him god knows where, have him scream and burn and _hurt_ , and Shiro—

Shiro’s not sure he can take much more. 

“Shiro, it’s all right. You’re safe.” 

_It’s a lie it’s a lie it’s a lie_

There’s a firm hand beneath his chin, light pressure. “Takashi, look at me?” Keith asks softly. “You’re safe. I promise.” 

Keith doesn’t lie to him. 

Shiro looks up. 

And there he is. As unbelievably beautiful as he’s always been, a shaky smile on his face and tears in his eyes. “Hey there.” 

 _Keith_. 

It’s a jolt through his aching heart, the sudden _recognition_ , and Shiro lets himself fall into Keith with a cry, fall into strong arms gathered around his shoulder and soft assurances in his ear (“you’re okay, you’re safe, I’m here, you’re all right”). He’s shaking from the force of it, feeling himself fall apart to be whole again.

“He needs to heal.” He knows that voice too, gentle but firm, but he can’t find it in himself to place it. He lets the words wash over him, lost in the feeling of _safe_  and _home_. 

“Right.” Keith’s voice rings through Shiro’s entire being, and he wants to bury himself in the sound. 

“Let me take him, we’ll need you for cover. Paladins, prepare to leave.” 

Keith—Keith’s leaning away, and _no_ , he can’t—he can’t leave Shiro now. He struggles against someone lifting him, because—

“Shiro, it’s Allura. I’ll need you to be still for me, please.” Oh. He relaxes, let’s himself be lifted away. 

Then they’re moving, and the hallways are oddly quiet. Every step jolts another ache, recalls another hurt, but he’s too tired to protest. It’s cold out here, and then they slow. 

“C’mon girl, open up for me.” Keith again, and Shiro loves him. “Look who I brought back for you.” 

Mechanical whirring, then they’re moving again, and something is tickling on the edges of his consciousness. He knows this feeling…

They stop, and Allura places Shiro down, and there’s such an overwhelming feeling of _belonging_  that Shiro has to crack open his eyes. 

Keith’s in the pilot’s seat, but…this isn’t Red. 

“Keith?” he rasps, because—where are they?

Keith turns to glance at him, his smile soft and loving. “Almost there, Shiro. We’ve got you.” They’re flying, stars flashing past the screens. Once they’re in motion, Keith leaves the seat— _can he do that?—_ to sit next to him. Gently, he slips his hand in Shiro’s, wary, careful. 

“I’m sorry we took so long,” he says hoarsely, but _no_ , Shiro can’t have that.

He shakes his head, despite the pounding behind his eyes and the way his skin aches. “Keith, don’t,” he croaks. “Don’t.”

Keith lets out a shuddering breath, and leans forward to brush his fingers against the worn skin of Shiro’s cheek, pressing a kiss there. “You should rest. We’ll be at the castle soon.”

But there’s something important he’s got to tell Keith, now it’s been brought up. “Thank you.” It’s all he manages—the breath in his lungs seems oppressive, and he can’t seem to find the strength to say any more.

But Keith—god, beautiful, intelligent, Keith, who has all of Shiro’s heart—smiles as though he understands. Even though it’s tired, even though he’s hurting, he’s smiling for Shiro. “All right,” he says softly. “Go to sleep, big shot. By the way, there’s someone else who missed you.”

Shiro furrows his brow, but Keith just smiles, and pats Shiro’s hand. 

Then…there’s pressure in his mind, but nothing like what he’s felt over the past however long he’s been away. No, this is familiar, and comforting, and had been missing from him the same way his arm is. 

 _Hey girl_ , he thinks, _feels_ when Black probes his mind, returns to him like he never left. _I’m sorry_.

Forgiveness flows through their bond, as does pride. But then it’s just—love. There’s warmth and love and nothing else. And he hears the voices of the other Paladins echoing over the communications, friendly chatter, and Allura’s hand is on his shoulder, and Keith’s hand is in his. 

So he finally lets himself slip away into sleep, Keith’s warmth alongside him as Black takes him away. 

**Author's Note:**

> I will have something longer for Sheith week hopefully! Comments and kudos make me very happy. [Voltron blog](http://www.psytrron.tumblr.com) and [main blog](http://www.psyraah.tumblr.com). Come talk to me!


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